Fallen Snow
by lupuscarmen13
Summary: Just because the Districts won the rebellion doesn't mean the Games are over. One last game, involving the children of the Capitol will take place. This is the 76th Hunger Games. 24 TRIBUTES. 1 ARENA. 1 SURVIVOR. THIS IS THE 76TH HUNGER GAMES.
1. Prologue

**A/N: THIS IS A BASIC SUMMARY OF THE HUNGER GAMES TRILOGY. IT CAN BE SKIPPED.**

In the ruins of what once was North America, a city and country rose from the ashes. This was called 'Panem', and the city was called 'the Capitol'. Thirteen outlying districts were made, and the Capitol soon began oppressing them.

Finally, the Districts fought back. 12 Districts were defeated, and the thirteenth seemingly obliterated. In order to prevent another uprising, the Capitol put in place the Hunger Games, where 24 boys and girls from the districts fought to the death in the arena.

74 years passed, and a girl named Primrose was reaped for the games. Her sister, Katniss rushed forward to volunteer. Next, the male tribute is drawn. It is Peeta Mellark. Neither tribute knows that they are about to set off a chain of events that will change Panem forever.

She doesn't believe she will survive, but against the odds, she does. She also manages to save her fellow tribute Peeta, who the world believes is her lover.

Katniss becomes a symbol of rebellion, and is drawn into a web of lies and love, and discovers simply surviving isn't enough. She starts a spark that will grow into a flaming inferno, a revolution. She has done much more than survive.

The next year's Games are announced. They are the 75th Hunger Games, and the third Quarter Quell, where another element is added to make the Games more difficult or painful for the tributes and the Districts. The element for that year is for the current pool of victors to be reaped- and go into the arena again.

Katniss was the only female victor in 12, and Peeta, determined to protect her, volunteers in the place of their mentor, a victor from the second Quarter Quell, a drunk named Haymitch.

During the interview, Peeta lies and says Katniss is pregnant, causing the anger of many Capitol citizens, who adore the 'star-crossed lovers'.

At the end of the quell, Katniss, admist the chaos, destroys the force field surrounding the arena. District 13, previously thought to have been destroyed, appears to rescue Katniss from the arena. Two other rebel tributes, Beetee and Finnick are saved as well. However, Peeta, Hohanna, and Enobaria, the other remaining tributes, are left behind and captured.

The revolution has begun and District 12 is annihilated for real. Gale, Katniss's friend, manages to save a small portion of the population and is taken in by 13.

Katniss agrees to become the Mockingjay, symbol of the revolution, if she can keep her sister's cat, can hunt with Gale, and if Peeta, Johanna, Enorabia, and Finnick's mad lover, Annie, gets immunity.

Her demands are met, and she begins her work. Peeta and the others are recovered, but he has been twisted.

The Districts are winning, but when a propaganda mission goes awry, Katniss and her team are stuck in enemy territory- the Capitol itself. One by one, the team members are killed.

The rebels move in and take the Capitol. In the end, President Snow attempts to use the Capitol's children as a human shield. Medics from 13 move in to help the children when bombs fall on the rebel leader's orders. Katniss's sister is among the medics and is killed.

Katniss is severely burned, and refuses to speak. She hovers on the knife-edge of insanity. She finally begins to speak again, and a meeting is called on the issue of a final games.

The seven remaining victors are gathered, and they vote on the idea. Peeta, Annie, and Beetee vote no, but Johanna, Enobaria, Haymitch, and Katniss vote yes. Katniss suggests that Snow's granddaughter is entered in automatically.

At Snow's execution, Katniss is told to kill him, but instead she kills the President of District 13, Alma Coin.

A year has passed, and the Reaping is about to begin. 24 of the Capitol's children are going into the arena. Only one will come out alive.

May the odds be ever in your favor.


	2. Chapter 1- Aly

CHAPTER ONE

_Aly Carrow_

My name is Aly Carrows. I'm twelve years old and a Capitol street rat. Since my mother's death, it has been my job to keep me and my four siblings alive, striking a balance between getting enough food, and not getting caught.

I am the oldest, although my twin Avery often disagrees. He is five minutes younger than I am. I have two younger sisters, Alexis and Nina, and another younger brother, Marshall.

The 76th Hunger Games are coming, but instead of the Districts supplying the tributes, we, the Capitol children, _are _the tributes.

I don't blame the Districts for revolting. I don't blame them for wanting revenge. However, I wish they hadn't included the street children in their games. Many of us would rather live in the Districts then in the streets. I am included among them.

Street children are constantly in danger of death, whether it comes from hunger, disease, starvation, the Peacekeepers, or even the citizens themselves. People of the Districts have the protection of anonymity, of numbers. They also are worth something. In the eyes of the Capitol, street 'rats' are not.

Before the revolution, entire 'colonies' of children lived in and under the city, hiding in small or large camps. They had their own government. We never spent much time in them, because I felt it was too dangerous. We were loners.

The rule for us street rats was 'don't get caught'. Only a lucky few escaped death, and they became Avoxs, District Citizens, and even 'playtoys' for certain Capitol citizens who would pay for them. There is a bounty on every street rat's head, and often it isn't the Peacekeepers who catch us, but the citizens.

Even though the citizens pose a major danger to us, they are also why we are able to survive. They are incredibly wasteful, and that allows us to take most of what we need from their garbage and homes. As long as we are careful, we will survive.

Avery is probably why we've survived so long. Most loners don't. He has an incredible sense of danger, and also an excellent nose. We haven't gotten ill from our food yet, which is more important than some people might think.

I've seen too many sick, poisoned, and dying street rats to not appreciate Avery's nose.

The sun has gone down. We are in an abandoned tunnel, our usual nightly haunt. Our fire is burning, the food is cooking, and I know Willow will be here soon. It's Thursday, drinking night.

Sure enough, Willow appears from the shadows, as if she's a ghost. Nina and Alexis grin and wave at her. Willow smiles and sits beside me. The firelight flickers on her hollow face, adding to her ghostly appearance.

She is one of the prettiest people I know, but starvation and fear is stealing it prematurely. I notice something red trickling from her forehead.

I realize its blood. Anger rushes throught me, anger at her father, anger at her brother, her family. I reach out and touch it, asking if she is okay.

Willow turns away, saying she's fine. She always says that, even when her bones are broken, or bruises mottle her porcelain skin.

I hated how that despite living in one of the richest households in Panem, Willow was starving more then most street children. I had grown up seeing her on television. Back when her mother was alive. Back when her beautiful blonde hair was lush and full. Back when she wasn't skin and bones. She was the granddaughter of President Snow, and instead of protection, she received harm from his status.

I knew it only had to have gotten worse since the final Games were announced. They knew she would be reaped, and they figured she would die.

We all knew that Willow was going to be reaped, the same way we all knew Katniss was going to be reaped for the last Games. It was the only option.

I couldn't imagine what that must be like for Willow. At least Avery and I have a chance of escaping.

Willow pulled her bag over her head. I immediately recognized it as the one her mother had given her before she died. Willow turned it over, and tomatoes, carrots, a rabbit, and various other greens fell out.

"Dinner!" she said proudly. "Dad was being interrogated again, along with the rest of the family, so I hunted and harvested these from Snow's garden."

"Whoa!" Alexis said, poking the rabbit's foot. "You caught this?"  
Willow nodded.

The scent of vegetables and roasted meat filled the air. Willow breathed it in, her hunger plain on her face.

"Will, when was the last time you ate?" asked Nina.

Willow paused, thinking. "Well, I had a few grapes this morning from the garden, but otherwise...last Thursday. Maybe Friday."

Marshall's eyes were huge. "Really? I don't think I could go that long without eating."

Willow shrugged. "Well, we're all not strangers to hunger, are we." She smiled bitterly. "Us, Capitol kids. Irony, eh?"

Avery stared into the fire. I joined him, memories of our mom's death running through my mind.

Back then, we weren't street kids. I was five when my father left, leaving my mother to pick up the pieces. He took all the money, leaving my mother jobless and homeless, with five young children to raise.

She began to work several jobs everyday, leaving us at her sister's place, where we were unwelcome.

But then Mom got sick. My aunt refused to help us, and our mother died. Avery and I were eight years old.

We became the heads of the family, learning the rules of the street quickly. We had to, because there was no one else too. We hid in an old bomb center when the uprising started, and survived the firestorm above. We were eleven.

Now I'm twelve, and the reaping is tomorrow. There are three strips of paper with Avery, Willow, and my names on it.

I have to wonder; will any of us come out alive?

Willow leaves around midnight. She is feeling ill from the sudden intake of food, but I know she doesn't regret it. I watch as she runs out of the firelight, until the night takes her.

Avery banks the fire, and I check the barriers. Secure in the fact that we are safe for the night, we curled up together. 7 year old Marshall is next to nine year old Nina. I know they will be having nightmares tonight, but just being nearby should help.

Alexis grips my hand. I know she is terrified for us, and also for herself. She fears that we both will be taken away. She is eleven. Even if I was reaped, she couldn't do anything, the same way I can't do anything if Avery is reaped.

I squeeze her hands, and eventually, impossibly, drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 2- Armenia

2

ARMENIA

I, Armenia Rockbell, was royally pissed off. Anyone who knows me had better get out of the way, because when I get mad, I get _mad._

The Reaping was tomorrow, and my mother _still _hadn't gotten the dress I had begged for. I never asked for much, did I? And when I finally asked for some damn thing, she forgets. Honestly.

I was _supposed _to wear a filmy, light pink dress, like an ancient Greek chiffon with a Mockingjay necklace, and it went perfectly with my mocha-brown skin and hair. But did dear Mom order them in time? No. So instead, I'm stuck wearing my old white dress with the pink gradient and a jacket instead. I planned to wear my hair rather simply, and I could do that myself, but Mom was a notoriously skilled make up artist, and she had better do this one thing for me.

I was going to be on live television- I had to look good. At least, that's what I've been told all my life.

I was still only fifteen, but in a week I would be sixteen. If I don't get reaped, I will go and get a my first piercing, rejoicing in finally being old enough to indulge in adult activities- like decorating my body without any forms my parents have to sign.

Sometimes, I hated my body. It wasn't just my skin color that made me stand out- it was the fact that I was curvy and had shape. No matter how skinny I got, or how much weight I lost, everyone thought I was fat. Hell, my own family has told me that, ever since Dad left and Mom became too busy with work to protect me. Of course, I then walked into school the next day and saw all the boys falling for me, and the girls wanting to be me. They knew I could kick their asses if I wanted to, and they treated me like the royalty I was.

I walked out of my room and to the balcony. Even from this distance, I could see the pinprick reddish lights of fires in the inner districts, but I could also see the stars.

They were so bright...

I shook my head, forcing away the memories of my father that had begun to crowd my head. That was not a place I wanted to go. Dad had abandoned the Capitol and by default, me. He had become a rebel, but he hadn't took me with him. Why? I never got to ask him, and it hurt. He had always told me to admire the stars and not judge others, and then I learned he was dead, protecting some girl during the final stretch of the Rebellion. My gentle, star-gazing, cowardly father had been killed by the Capitol, by the neighbors around me, and I knew I was to blame.

I hadn't always been shallow, but that's who I was. Daddy's little Annie was long gone, locked into a place that nobody would find her. And I was going to keep it that way. Without my dad to make me see differently, I had become fully Capitol.

I began to cry. Staring up at those stars, I realized that if I got reaped, I would die. I didn't wanna die. I wanted the killing to stop, the way the war had. Why? That was the only question in my head as I let the warm salty tears flow down my cheeks.

The killing would not stop. And, like the rain, it would keep coming, again and again and again, until finally no one was left.


	4. Chapter 3- Willow: The Reaping

**A/N: Hi... normally I don't do Author's Notes, but this time I will. This chapter will show a bit of Willow's abuse, as well as the next. **

** Oh, and I normally also don't beg for reviews, but PLEASE! It would make me so happy to get a couple reviews, you have no idea. **

**~lupuscarmen13 :D**

3

Willow

I hated the place I was forced to call home. I was a place of pain, lies, and abuse. It was where my grandfather, father, brother, and their friends took their pain, anger, and sadistic needs out on me. It was where I had been violated in every possible way. It was where I honestly thought I was going to die, until news came of the 76th Hunger Games.

It was a Thursday when the announcement had come. My angry and terrified father, who could only pray that he wasn't going to be thrown in jail, or worse had immediately realized what that had meant.

It was open season on me, and I knew it no longer mattered to them if I got visibly hurt because I was going to be reaped, and bruises can be hidden with make up.

Our family only got limited amounts of food after the rebellion, and there was no longer any reason to feed worthless little me. After all, I was going into the Games, and there was no way I was going to make it out, even if I was strong enough to. The Gamemakers would make sure of that. I was the granddaughter of the man behind the Games. I was also the only relative young enough to participate. Snow was dead. My father was probably going to jail, along with my brother. I was the only real outlet the districts had. Not that that made any difference to me.

"Willow?" Aly asked. "What are you thinking?" She looked concerned, and I cursed inwardly.

I shook my head. "Nothing."

It was the same answer I automatically gave, next to, "Fine.".

The fire had burned down, and the feeling of food in my stomach was wonderful, even if I knew I would feel ill later that night.

I only finished half of my mouse, but it still might have been enough to set off my stomach after going so long without food.

I stared at the dying embers, wrapping my thin arms around myself.

Someone touched my shoulder, and I jumped.

It was Nina. The little girl crouched down beside me. "It'll be okay. You'll win, Will."

Nina said it with utter certainty. I thought I was going to break down, but I didn't. Instead, I hugged the little nine year old, wishing I had her certainty.

I would need it in the arena.

Although it was the last thing I wanted to do, I left the Carrows and headed home, easily dodging all human life along the way. I made it safely to my room, and collapsed on my bed, exhaustion weakening me.

I drifted off into an uneasy, nightmare-riddled sleep.

I woke up to ice water, and the sensation of being soaked and frozen to the bone, as per usual. It was Romeo, my 22 year old brother's twisted form of humor. He probably found it ironic that our last name was Snow, and I was getting liquid ice getitng tossed on my head each morning.

Oddly enough, he didn't throw the metal bucket at me, which was very unusual. Romeo hated my guts, and he never missed a chance to torment me.

Then I remembered- Reaping Day. He couldn't leave too many obvious bruises today, which cheered me up slightly.

Instead, he followed straight through to step three: Shove my face in the soaked pillow. I couldn't breath, and panic almost took me, but I knew from experience and common sense not to fight back. I may have been a beaten dog, but I was a smart one.

Finally, Romeo got bored of tormenting me and dragged me off the bed. I gasped, shaking my head to get the black spots out of my eyes.

"Get dressed, you worthless piece of shit. Now. Then it's time for make-up and I'm rid of you forever."

He gave an cruel laugh and pulled hard on my arm. He was already dressed and brought to a camera-ready state.

He pulled my hair when I didn't immediately start dressing. "Move it." And with that, he left the room.

I quickly combed my pale blonde hair, letting it fall in waves from the braid I normally wore. I pulled the light blue, very simple dress my mother had once owned. I put on the necklace she had given me before she died, a beautiful silver moon. I slipped into soft silver flats and put on the ankle and wrist bangles I had received from my mother when I was six. All of this took less than a minute, and after quickly and perfectly making my bed, I was out the door.

I hurried downstairs, anxious to avoid my family's wrath.

My make up was quickly and flawlessly done, just enough to cover the bruises, scars and cuts, and to highlight my face.

My family had left while the attendant did my make-up, probably so they could make it to a friend's house to laugh at the Reaping. They didn't care that it was Capitol children in the Games this year- they wanted to see blood. I had a bad feeling that much of the Capitol- especially the richest families- would still be watching with eagerness, still not understanding what exactly these Games meant for their children. That death was permanent.

I then hurried over to where the Reaping would take place, wincing as my ribs gave a particularly painful twinge.

12 Capitol boys and 12 Capitol girls. And I was certain I was one of them.

I realized that Effie Trinket was on stage, about to begin speaking. I see Aly standing alone, like I am. I search the boy's area for Avery, and let out a breath when I see him, surrounded by other twelve year old boys.

I watch as he tries to find the rest of his family. He eyes catch mine and he waves, his eyes full of relief. He attempts a smile, but it looks more like a grimace.

Effie finishes her speech, and begins to reap the boys, a direct difference from the normal Games.

I see Aly and Avery's faces tense, and I want to cry. I don't know what I would do if one of them- or god forbid, both of them were reaped.

Eleven names are called, and I begin to relax, glad for the two siblings.

"Avery Carrows."

My heart stops. I hear Aly's hysterical cries and screams, but I can't do anything but stare in horror as Avery is pushed to the stage, seeming tiny against the older competitors. He is the only twelve year old called so far, and the only one under fifteen.

"And the ladies!" Effie says. She puts her hand in and picks a name from the very top, which I feel was placed on purpose.

"Willow Snow." Effie says.

It wasn't as if I wasn't expecting it, but even so, my stomach drops. I also know that everyone else knew it was going to happen as well. I am Willow Snow, age 14, and the national target.

Avery seems near tears, whether for me or him, or both of us, I don't know. I hold his hand, and he leans into me.

I watch as girl after girl is called. I am disgusted at the way several seem excited.

"Armenia Rockbell." A girl with dark skin and curves is called. I see her face pale for a moment, but watch as she puts a brave and careless mask on. She struts forward, and I know from my 'education' via Grandfather Snow that she is from one of the richest families.

Right after her, Effie pulls another name from the ball. She freezes for an instant, and when she speaks, I can swear her voice quivers.

"Alyson Carrows."

I am certain I have no stomach now, and only shock keeps the tears at bay. Avery sobs harder and Aly races up, flying into her twin's arms.

The odds were never in our favor, but I never expected this. I watch in numb silence as the next names are called.

Effie speaks a little more, and coaxes a cheer from the crowd. I see street rats dragging Alexis, Nina, and Marshall away. I can see eleven year old Alexis struggling to stay strong.

I want to cry, but I can't. It's drilled too far into me not to cry. I will not cry. I must remain strong.

But watching my two closest friends, the people who are more my family than my relatives break, and knowing that at least one of them have to die, is almost enough to break me.

We are led to little rooms, where we may have final visitors.

I know the Carrows must be spending time with Aly and Avery. I don't blame them, and fully expect no one to come.

But someone does, and it is the last person I would expect.

I look up as a door creaks open. My hair is falling in front of my face, and I have to brush it aside.

I freeze, recognizing immediately who the girl in front of me is.

Medium height, slight build, with dark hair and olive skin, the girl is simply pretty in a very subtle way. Her eyes are slate gray, and glimmer with pain and grief and even a little insanity. Her arms have subtle scarring of burns.

It is Katniss Everdeen, Mockingjay, and Girl on Fire.


	5. Chapter 4- Willow

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read so far! Please read and review. **

**Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins. 'Nuff said.**

**Warning: Child abuse, violence, and a bit of mild language. Read on!**

Chapter 4:

Willow

"Willow Snow." Katniss said softly.

I shrunk back, terrified. It must have shown on my face, because Katniss held herself very still and in a disarming way.

"I'm sorry." Katniss said. "I wish I had voted differently. I wish killing Coin would have stopped this. Once my anger and grief had faded away, I realized how stupid I had been. You were innocent..."

I turned my face to the wall. I was Capitol. Katniss deserved to hate me. I heard a gasp, and realized that my make-up hadn't been reapplied after I washed it it off. My bruises were probably very visible.

"How...?" Katniss said in a dangerous tone of voice.

I stared at the floor. "Why are you here?"

Katniss knelt beside me and looked me in the eye. "To apologize. And to warn you."

I looked up at her, confused.

"Don't ever just be a pawn in their games." Katniss said, standing. "I did that, and now..." she broke off, her voice full of pain. "Watch out, Willow. They will want to take you out, at all costs. It's a warning to everyone."

"Don't cross District 13, because we'll kill you and your children." I replied tonelessly. Katniss nodded, her face sad.

A knock came at the door. "Katniss, time to go." a male voice said. Katniss rose, but slipped something into my hand.

"Don't ever give up." Katniss said, staring me straight in the eye. As she turned to leave, her shoulders curled forward, as if she was about to admit to something terrible. She spoke without looking back as she left the room.

"I was the one who suggested you be placed in the Games." she said softly, her voice full of regret. "Goodbye, Willow."

The door snapped shut, and I buried whatever it was she gave me deep into the bottom fold of my dress, into a pocket I had cut long ago.

A few minutes later, my father, obviously drunk, entered.

I had been standing, and at the sight of him, I backed up against the far wall, shaking. My knees felt weak, and I wanted to be sick. I was free of him! Why had he come? What did he want?

My father was cruel and ruthless when sober, but drunk, he was even more dangerous. I never knew what to expect.

"Stupid bitch." he hisses. "Getting reaped. Now, I have to deal with all this bad publicity, and it all your fault!"

He punched me. The force spins me around, and then I'm knocked to the ground.

He is swearing, going through all his usual names for me. Worthless. Brat. Freak. Slut. Each word is punctuated by a kick.

Something wet hit my cheek. Spit.

"Get up, you worthless thing."

I didn't think I could, but I tried. Not fast enough. A flash, and then pain. I gasped, coughing of blood.

He punches me again, knocking my head against the hard wall. My head spun even worse.

When I fell again, I didn't get up. Before he could continue, the knock at the door came again.

The shadows at the edge of my vision were growing, and as he left, I knew that at least if the pain killed me, it wouldn't be on live television.

I fell unconscious.

I woke to soft sheets and an even softer bed, softer than I could remember. I immediately bolt upright, knowing that if I was in a good bed, my father must have given me to one of his friends.

I have no memory of anything happening, but-

Oh. Yeah. The Reaping.

The beating.

The hard lump in my chest grew, and pain from having sat up too fast shot through me. I felt sick, but I knew if I threw up, nothing but bile and water would come anyway.

"So you're awake." an unfamiliar voice said. I looked to the doorway to see a tall man and woman.

I immediately recognize the man at Haymitch Abernathy although I can't place the woman.

"Who are you?" I demanded, suddenly suspicious.

"Your mentors." the woman replied.

"No, your names." I said softly, still hostile.

"Ithilien. Lacy Ithilien. Most people call me Lynn." Lynn extended her hand. I ignored it.

"I'm Haymitch Abernathy. District 12." Haymitch said, looking more sober than I've ever seen him.

Something about him put me at ease. A small voice in the back of my head told me I could trust him, and so I did. A little.

In a very small and quiet voice, I said, "I'm Willow Rose Maria Thalia Snow. Most people call me Will or L, but please call me Maria or Willow."

"Maria?" Lynn wondered out loud. I nodded. I wasn't willing to share that story with strangers.

I had been called Maria by my mother as a child more than Rose, the name my father had given to me. In Capitol families, the mother and father usually each pick a name and calls their child that name. The first name is one they choose together. The godparent (in Willow's case, her grandfather Snow) also gave a name to the child, but usually called the child by their first name.

I would be perfectly happy as Willow Maria Snow- or even Willow Maria Oaken. Oaken was my mother's surname before marrying my father. She was a second-generation District girl, her mother a victor from Four, her father a high-class Capitol citizen.

I missed her.

"-check on Martel." Haymitch had been saying. I blinked.

Lynn waved her hand. "Go."

Haymitch did. Lynn stared at me, taking in every detail.

"Who abuses you?"

I gaped at her. No one, other than Aly, had ever asked me that question, or even suspected it.

"Willow- Maria- tell me."

I bit my lip, clutching at the blankets. I had always been told never to tell, or I would get in trouble. Even knowing I was going to die in the next week didn't convince me. I was a coward. I was still much too afraid.

"Is it your father or brother? Or both? And when your grandfather was alive, did he help?"

The shock and fear in my eyes must have been a yes to her.

There was a softness in her eyes that had made me want to spill all my dirty little secrets. But my mouth stayed closed. Besides, after hearing what had happened to me, she would be disgusted. No one wanted to be near a freak like me.

Lynn tried to take my hand, but I flinched back. She began to assure me that by the time the Games started I would be fine, and that the swelling in my face would be down by the tribute parade.

She told me that I would be joining them at breakfast, and then heading to the remake center.

Before Lynn left the room, I blurted out a question that had been bugging me. "What District are you from?"

Lynn paused, her shoulders tightening. "8. My big sister died the year Katniss went in. It makes me wonder..."

I looked down at the sheets, clutching them in my hands. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not-"

"Speaking up? Stopping them?" Lynn said. "I'm glad you didn't. One little girl, abused by her family wouldn't have been able to stop the Games. If you had said anything, you would have been killed."

"Yeah, but now I get to be killed on live television." I pointed out. "If I had spoken up and gotten killed, the Capitol might've-"

"No they wouldn't, Willow." Lyn said sternly. "I have learned that 'What ifs' are worthless. I still struggle with not thinking in that way. Look to the future, not to the past."

"My future holds death." I said simply. Lynn didn't know what to say.

The silence stretched for a few moments, and I realized that someone was standing outside the door.

"The odds were never in your favor, huh?" Lynn finally said, smiling sadly.

The door opened, and in marched Haymitch, Martel, and- Gale Hawthorne.

"Gale is here to check out all the tributes." Haymitch said, glancing at the younger man.

Gale's face was an odd mix of white and red as he processed Lyn's statement.

"The odds were never in her favor?" Gale said slowly, glaring at me. "She's Capitol, Lynn. The odds were _always _in her favor."

Glancing at Martel, Gale slowly controlled his temper. Haymitch quickly swooped in.

"Martel, go down to breakfast. We'll meet you there."

"But-!"

"Go!"

Martel turned and left. Gale continued as if I wasn't there. It didn't bug me that badly; I was used to the silent treatment. It was one of my father's favorites.

"How is she unfortunate? Other than being in the Games?" Gale demanded.

Lynn glanced at me, asking with her eyes. I didn't respond.

"As you know, Willow is the granddaughter of President Snow."

Gale gave a sharp nod.

"Willow's family- including the President- abused her. She is malnourished from starvation, beaten black and blue, obviously scarred mentally and emotionally from them, and from the medical exam, sexually abused more than once. Her case of malnutrition is beyond what is often seen in the Districts- even 12!"

Gale fell silent. Then, he spun on his feet and stormed from the room, letting the door slam close. I flinched again.

Lynn sighed. "He's been through a lot. He hates the Capitol for what it did to him and his people."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Lynn ended up staying to help me. She put me in a simple pink dress and combed my hair for me. We headed down to breakfast, me using a cane to help support my weight.

Martel and Haymitch had almost finished eating when we arrived. We were on the first floor for tributes, and I know in the floors above us, somewhere, Aly and Avery are eating as well.

Martel shyly introduced himself. I carefully shook his hand, stupidly afraid that I was going to get punished.

Martel only smiled.

I sat down and stare at the food in front of me. There is so much!

I turn and glance at Lynn with disbelief. "This is all for us?"

Lynn chuckles, and I immediately feel my shoulders curl forward. I'm not going to get to eat, am I?

She surprised me. She said, "Yes. It's all for us- and you. It's quite a lot, huh?"  
Martel looked confused. "But.. it's smaller than what I normally get..."

I tried to imagine what Martel's life must have been like. Platters of round bread called pancakes, eggs, meat strips of different kinds, orange juice, milk. What I saw in front of me could feed the Carrows for several days. Martel must have lived a life of unimaginable ease and pleasure. Despite having grown up in a household of people who lived like Martel, I still found it hard to believe.

I wait until Lynn had put food on her plate and gingerly lean back in my seat. At my home, if I got fed, I had to wait until everyone else finished eating.

Lynn frowned. "Why aren't you eating?"  
I bit my tongue; what was I to say? If I had been asked that question at home, any response I had given (because of the rules, no reply, I dunno) had been beat worthy.

In the end, I answered. "It's the rules, ma'am. I may not eat until everyone else has eaten."

Haymitch froze beside me, and Lynn's eyes looked glassy. "Eat, Willow."  
I carefully took a tiny pancake, constantly glancing at the adults to see if it was okay.

When no one objected, I clumsily cut the cake into small pieces and raised one to my mouth with a fork. I hunched over my plate, afraid they would take it.

I was full when I finished the pancake, but I stared longingly at the sasuage links.

I leaned back in my chair, but suddenly sat up straight. My heartrate sped up, and I had to force myself to remember that my father wasn't there to punish me.

Martel, Haymitch, and Lynn glanced at me curiously. My face reddened, probably making me look like a tomato.

We took an elevator to the Remake Center, leaving Haymitch and Martel to go...do something.

Lynn left me at the door, giving me an encouraging smile.

I pushed open the door and entered the bright room.

**A/N: I forgot to thank Radio Free Death for the review! Thank you! I fixed it and added a notice at the top. :D**

**Don't forget to review! :D**


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